


you know everything, and it's impressive

by KuyaReCom



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A good one, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, I wrote this instead of studying, M/M, Miya Atsumu is a Little Shit, No Plot/Plotless, Sakusa Kiyoomi-centric, Self-Indulgent, Sexual Tension, Trash Talk, komori motoya is the best wingman, pls don't ask if the author has a mole fetish, the itachi uniform is unique but umm my eyes hurt, this is random
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26405398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuyaReCom/pseuds/KuyaReCom
Summary: Of course Sakusa Kiyoomi's most memorable features are his moles, it's either that or his permanent scowl which rivals even Kageyama from SA, who is a legend among scowls out of scowls. Your choice, really, he doesn't care what his fanatics think as long as they're not starting to worship him. (He is currently staring at your soul, because you won't be here if you at least don't think he's lowkey hot)Of course Miya Atsumu has a mole on his hip bone, and rather than connecting it to his twin brother, Sakusa thinks about how pretty Atsumu is in a surprisingly - positive way.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	you know everything, and it's impressive

**Author's Note:**

> purely self-indulgent.

Listen, there exist beautiful and ugly people in this world.

It's a given thing, you can't change your looks unless you have a lot of money or are willing to insert your face with plastic. He thinks that it's dumb, because as much as he hates how sentimental he can be, appearances don't determine a person's beauty. Their personalities are. He guesses those people are shallow-minded, no offence but that's just how he is. It's better to be straightly brutal than beating around the bush because a bush doesn't deserve to be beaten at all. And if there are berries, those berries will be squashed and he thinks you won't eat mushed berries.

Personalities show a lot about someone, and he grades people on their personalities. The good ones go into his deserve-my-attention list, especially respectful ones, such as Motoya, Hinata, Iizuna-senpai, Wakatoshi-kun and others. It's always and constantly shifting because their actions bring different results, but the closest to negative is only Motoya after he accidentally bought him expired umeboshi, resulting in him having a stand-off with the pristine hospital walls. But there'll be a hell-no list, where everything from stubborn to stupidly impulsive people get into, and he can count with his two fingers -

Miya Atsumu and Miya Atsumu's hip bone mole.

Beautiful features but ugly personality, Sakusa Kiyoomi sees the whole of him in a negative way.

Maybe Sakusa shouldn't condone him in shrewd ugliness. Despite his divergence from people, he's not completely full of tyranny and constructive criticism. 

("But it suits you. Kiyoomi and emperor. Evil emperor!"

"Shut up, Motoya. You've watched too much anime.")

As you all must have experienced the two stages of puberty, he can say blandly how his horniness level spiked up during his teenage years. Being a person who avoids physical touch as much as possible, it must not be hard to control his hormones. That's the normal case if only he's not a volleyball player. Volleyball; where everyone gets sweaty and disgustingly attractive for no reason available. Sometimes, he'll take a moment on court to close his eyes and breathe, because having two teams on one court with rowdy, bulky boys in front of him didn't help his sexuality at all. It's also to contain from biting Motoya's head off as he sends a very indiscriminate smirk at him.

His cousin somehow helps him, since those knowing smirks rein himself back in control. He can pull off a spike well, carry the team as its ace and interact with his teammates normally, all thanks to his cousin. Alas, when Sakusa gets too competitive, that's when not even Motoya's childish whines can help him.

Competitive being five syllables; Miya Atsumu.

Inarizaki is troublesome, as its team is often full of sly players, just like the inari, and they bring an air of holiness with them. Iizuna-senpai once mentioned that he wished whoever chose neon yellow for their colour motif can take a good example from inari's uniform. Sakusa sees nothing wrong with it, but he can't deny that he dislikes how Motoya's mother mentions that they look like ready-to-ripe bananas.

("Bananas are supposed to be happy fruits."

"Your point, Iizuna-senpai?"

"Can you at least be a bit cheerful?"

At least there's something positive about their uniform.)

Back to the foxes. During his first year, he managed to trash them completely. Until the last set, where the setter was substituted for another benchwarmer. At first, Sakusa thought something was wrong with his eyes because the person seemed to split into two, then he recognised them as twins. The replacement had dyed his hair in the colour of murky yellow, and he imagined the player in Itachiyama's uniform. The epitome of blindingly ugly.

As if Motoya sensed it, he sent an unamused look at him.

He wasn't distracted for very long though, as when the setter did his serve, he nearly fell to receive it. The ball soared high over the net, a free ball, and he watched in shock as the opposing team went for a powerful spike, but what caught his attention was how fluid the setted ball was. A slam on the court, and the points racked up the same. He finally got a good look at the setter's face and he's thankful that hormones can't go on overdose. 

Because Miya Atsumu has an attractive face, a face so pretty he might actually pull off the yellow of his uniform.

They did win the set and the overall match, but Sakusa has shown unpromising sportsmanship as he strode away, sat stubbornly on the bench and not responding to any handshakes or congratulations.

Motoya patted him on the back, and he's too much in a turmoil to swat his hand away. His cousin said, "It's tough, amirite."

He told himself it's just another flitting person he found attractive and his hormones were to blame. He's right as he forgot Miya Atsumu, but he didn't forget who would manage to make a successful modelling out of Itachiyama's banana colours. You couldn't tell him it just happens, because he's very sure you at least for once, found someone so attractive that you imagined them in your clothes.

There's really something wrong with his hormones. And you, for that matter.

During his second year. Thrashing them? Not completely, but close enough. It was the Finals and Sakusa might have stalked off to a few of Inarizaki's matches, and found both Miya Atsumu and his twin making it to the tier list. He heard from his coach, whose hobby is gossiping, typical Tokyo behavior, that the Hyogo school's own coach was very judgemental and prioritised older students. So, it meant that the new line-up consisted of talented ones. He shouldn't be shocked at how flawless and powerful Miya Atsumu's skills were, or his twin named Miya Osamu from what he heard from shrieking fangirls. They were in sync and dangerous.

And it hurt his mind at how attractive they both were.

The match was exhausting, but now that he needed to face them for a full 5 sets, Motoya's attempts to keep his focus was slipping lower than the producing sweat on the floor. He didn't deny that he lingered to study Miya Atsumu's facial features for a split second, but the other caught him. His face, which was impassive the whole time, split slowly into a grin. The message was obvious: you and him both added the dangerous glint in his warm-soaked hazelnut eyes.

Like what you see?

Once again, at that split second, Sakusa deemed that Miya Atsumu was a total asshole. He's just confirming it, he had seen how Miya Atsumu bewitched the crowd and manipulated the gameplay as easily as performing a tragic summary of Hamlet throughout all the Inarizaki matches. He enjoyed it, and he's going to make Sakusa suffer. That message was enough of a small warning.

The summer of his second year was when Miya Atsumu officially started to torment Sakusa Kiyoomi.

("Can you tone it down, Kiyoomi-kun?"

"Tone what down, Motoya."

"Your flirting with the setter Miya-san? You look at him after scoring the set point like you wish to set him on fire."

"No. I'm wishing to scalp his eyeballs out."

"Phew. I thought that you were going to devour him. Anyways, one double cheeseburger!")

"Kinda ironic, hum. Omi?"

"Fucking hell, Atsumu. You're not supposed to show up yet."

Saying that Miya Atsumu has a trash personality was an understatement. Those looks are wasted when combined with an egotistical being like him. Some people beg to differ, but that's if you're devoted to loving Miya Atsumu and would volunteer to peel layers of him for research purposes. Sakusa isn't that, he just has a normal opinion on him, or it's the attraction's fault. The magnetised feeling was so strong that he was involuntarily pulled over to the human magnet labelled Miya Atsumu. As someone who minorly dabbles in scientific theories, that sounds both reasonable and not.

And the training camp happened. A concept purely cliché and overused but Miya Atsumu played it well. If only he doesn’t have a garbage disposal for a mouth, then Sakusa will consider his choices. Which is impossible.

He has seen it for the first time during a tiring 3-on-3. Much to his apparent dismay, he was assigned with Miya Atsumu and Hoshiumi Kourai, the latter tormenting him aggressively and the former merely flashed him some very convincing smirks. They both didn't tether him as they annihilated the other team. He was laser-focused as Miya Atsumu went for a spike, instead he settled for a ball tip, and the offensive action resulted in a ball that soared across an umbrella hand block and a shirt riding up too far.

He blamed his position, or Motoya's daily routine to test his horniness level as he phrases it by trying to shove a few pages of porn directly into his face that morning. The reason why desperately counts, because the loose shirt Miya's in slid up a bit, revealing abs that are gifted to those who have dedicated themselves to an intense sport since childhood. 

Abs is something Sakusa's been dealing with for years, not that it's weird he can tell how much experience people have in volleyball just by judging their abs. However, the one thing that sticks out from Miya's flushed skin is a dark spot, a beauty mark of something crazily similar to the two dots he has on his right brow.

A fucking mole.

He didn't lose his composure, but a feeling akin to shock washed over him. His helpless and unhelpful brain supplied through walls of tiredness and stone, Miya Atsumu has a mole on his left hip bone.

("A mole fetish since 17? Damn, yer such a horny teen, Omi."

"I blame Motoya, and I'm giving up on ways so you won't just shove a whole bracket interruption in the middle of this.") 

That evening, when he was cleaning his face in front of the bathroom mirror, he flicked his gaze at the beauty marks on his face. He's the only one in his family who inherited his mother's moles, although hers are situated on the cheek rather than above the eyebrow. Ignoring his thoughts for a bit, he continued to wipe his face with his towel, stopping for a few seconds when he remembered an  [ article ](https://www.thedermspecs.com/blog/how-to-tell-the-difference-between-a-mole-and-a-freckle/) he once read about moles. Only moles located on the face, collarbone or shoulder can be considered as beauty marks - then why was he attracted to Miya Atsumu's hip bone mole?

Unfortunately, with each passing moment, he forgets about it. It's the same case as you when you practically have a ton of fish with better looks and abs served on a silver platter, though he discriminates that he won't even take one bite while you'll gobble the whole feast down. Just admit that you all are beasts greedy for one thing, proven by when you salvage for SakuAtsu breadcrumb. Sakusa says that you are just desperate.

Although he has a lot of choices among the piles of umeboshi he loves, each one is different. Yet he won't touch them, shrugging off his curiosity. Still, there's one that'll glisten, catch his eye and he wonders how that one tastes like. It'll bring a taste of danger, and he might be a risky taker, but knowing it is Miya's taste wrapped in the thick skin of brownish tart makes Sakusa reconsider his decision, and probably throw the metaphoric fruit from the 44th floor of the Sky Tree.

("Sakkun, there's only 29 floors in the Sky Tree!"

"It's a figure of speech, Bokuto.")

His skill of discarding the matter deep into his unexplored thoughts is not to be looked down upon, and he succeeds in it. High school goes through with a blur, yet he remembers Miya's triumphant smile across the net, all clear lines and the giddiness in his expression brightening his features. He has the image in his list of daily things to think about, even when he's clad stiffly in graduation robes alongside Motoya, or moving out of his parents' house even when the college he enrolls in is a mere 30 minutes commute away. 

He's not obsessing over Miya's we-finally-beat-you grin or his hip bone mole. Sure, he's a tired college student who ventured into the true meaning of depth science, thinking about whether or not he'll apply the theory of  [ dogs salivating ](https://online.husson.edu/consumer-behavior-pavlovian-theory/#:~:text=Pavlovian%20theory%20is%20a%20learning,could%20trigger%20a%20conditioned%20response.&text=As%20he%20gave%20food%20to%20the%20dogs%2C%20he%20rang%20the%20bell.) in his life. He cramps his brain at 3 am so how can he even have the spare time to think about Miya? The results are Motoya, Volleyball Weekly and nikkansports.com.

Despite his studies, he gains a free pass and becomes a member of the volleyball team, because if you're dedicated to volleyball for close to a decade, it's hard to turn cold turkey on it just because you're growing grey hairs. A peculiar example like when you sacrifice your sleep to fangirl over your favourite K-pop band streaming. Being in a sport means you need to keep up with the sports. To Sakusa, there's always nikkansports.com, his most trusted sports news website, not newspapers because only grandpas in Tokyo's downtown eateries read them. Volleyball Weekly is technically all about stats reviews and bonus pictures. It also comes in the form of Motoya.

His cousin is blessed with a personality that attracts any breathing beings in a 100 meter radius to him, so he has a lot of networks though he entered college and continued college divisions. Motoya kept him up with the tabs, both college and pro, occasionally lower education such as high school. One summer day while trying this new bakery where they sell weasel-shaped doughnuts, he perked up.

"By the way, remember Miya Atsumu?" 

"Who?" Sakusa twirled his spoon in his swirling black tea before clinking it on the edge of the ceramic cup.

Motoya rolled his eyes, a gesture both of them had perfected since their childhood. He tore off the head of his weasel doughnut. "He joined this D2 team, so he's starting this season!"

"D2?" He inquired, he settled the metal spoon on the saucer. He then took a careful sip, relishing the bitter taste, "He must be shit then."

Miya is eventually, not shit. Sakusa thought unhelpfully as he watched the live match in his small apartment over his open Cognitive Psychology textbook, laptop propped open as he burnt a hole through the screen. His sets remain flawless. Exceeding the epitome of perfection. His body stature has improved by a mile. And Motoya went the extra mile to text him look at those thighs. Why the fuck was Miya wasting his talents and looks on a D2 team?

("I still can't get over the fact that ya talk shit 'bout me while sipping tea like a princeling."

"I have exquisite taste.")

You stopped for a second. That didn't explain why Sakusa was constantly reminded of Miya's hip bone mole. Or maybe you didn't, because you were either sleep-deprived or crippled with depression like the author.

It is fortunate enough, but if some professional sports players fool around by having rotten reputations, they don't reflect what university students have the capability of. You can say that he's in the university volleyball team with the highest ranking, which means he gets invited to a lot of parties. He unsurprisingly always avoids them because this is goddamn Tokyo, he sees drugs everywhere if he squints a little bit. 

But he forgot his copy of Social Psychology notes that a teammate stole from him, and the test was tomorrow. The rest of the departments had finished their respective tests, a few joyfully not even having them, but that didn't explain the reason why his fellow teammate and course-taker was throwing a fucking party the night before the Psychology Dep's test.

He gingerly pushed the doorbell, he was bundled up in thick clothes and his mask was secured. Not only that, he wore a pair of leather gloves as he put his hands aside. The door swung open and he was hit with a full-blown wind of imaginary grime.

"Sakusa-san!" His teammate shouted in surprise. Yeah, Sakusa's also surprised.

Not wanting to waste time, he refused to greet him. "Where are my notes?"

His teammate blinked, processing the words, "Oh! So that's what you're here for! Come in first though!"

Warily stepping in, he turned to him. His teammate scratched the back of his head, eyes hazy. "I think it's in my room."

It must had been his mournful expression, his eyebrows twitching since his teammate quickly pointed a finger up, "I'll get it for you, why don't you go ..." He waved an arm wildly around, "Grab a drink or something. I'll be back soon." With that, he dashed through the crowd and disappeared from view. Sakusa lingered in front of the door, unsure and awkward, also mildly disgusted at his surroundings. Eventually, he gave up and wandered around to search for Motoya. He knew his cousin had finished his Communications test and Motoya wasn't the type to pass out free alcohol, considering the hiking prices Tokyo offers. After squeezing through the hallway, expertly avoiding any rustle of fabric or skin, he spotted him in the kitchen.

Motoya had a glass of alcohol and a magazine in his hands, slouching as the tip of his reddish nose touched the page. Sensing someone entering, he looked up and his jaw dropped on the floor at the sight of him.

"Kiyoomi-kun, is that you?!"

"Yes, it's me, Motoya." He drew out, opting not to sit down. 

"But, but," he stuttered, looking to be in impeccable shock, "Don't you have a test tomorrow?"

"I've texted you about it." He glared at Motoya as he began to fumble for his phone. When he managed to find it, Sakusa glared again at the too bright neon yellow cover reflecting in the dim kitchen lighting, he was pretty sure his cousin decided their former high school team should use matching phone cases in the power of vice-captain just to spite him.

("Is that why you're happy when your phone broke?!"

"Sadly. That case is too small for my Samsung A31.")

Motoya gasped and flashed a wobbling grin at him, "Sorry for not replying and that sucks, but you'll nail the test tomorrow! Oh!" His eyes sparkled. He scrambled for the magazine and shoved it in Sakusa's direction, where he caught the edition series and weekly date of a Volleyball Weekly one. He didn't recognise the series, but if he's not mistaken, the front was plastered with an image of Bokuto Koutarou in a suit.

"Are you telling me to have a boner because Bokuto Koutarou is in a suit? Disgusting." He scrunched his nose, reading the main lines imprinted beside Bokuto's gravity-defying hair, Former Top 5 High School Ace Joining the Jackals This Winter! Now he did spot the jackal logo embedded in his cuffs and below his collar. Contrary to people's beliefs, Volleyball Weekly sometimes puts players in advertising products on the covers. 

"Not that! He has a boyfriend!" Motoya steadied himself by planting his palms onto the countertop, he flipped a few pages while rambling drunkenly, "Our teammate has connections to one of the editors and he lent me this series that's supposed to be published tomorrow. I caught goddamn gold."

He slapped a palm harshly on the page, and Sakusa leaned in because he wanted to confirm the dim kitchen lighting wasn't playing tricks on his eyes. He stared, squinted and glared at none other than a shirtless Miya Atsumu.

He blinked, and his mouth went dry when his shortwired brain finally registered that Miya was shirtless. If the sight of a younger Miya riled up a shirt made him feel questionable things, it certainly didn't fathom Miya's current and older state. He forced his brain to stop thinking about those toned abs, and he knew you have the ability to imagine and thirst over Miya's abs anyways.

What really hitched his breath was when he locked his eyes on the black dot barely visible by the clean pixels on the page. He had half his usual focus when Motoya started to speak, magically oblivious to his cousin's internal struggles. "These are Atsumu-san's updated stats!"

He unlatched his glued tongue from the roof of his mouth, "I see no reason why it's gold." With great reluctance, he shifted to read the displayed stats in a box list.

"His stats are better than Kageyama's!" Motoya hissed lowly, he flicked a few pages back to Sakusa's intense relief and propped up a full 2-pages of Kageyama Tobio staring murderously at whoever was reading. He repaired his brain and did compare both of their stats, slightly amazed by how Miya scraped a better overall score than his junior counterpart.

"He won't be in D2 for long," Motoya did the devilish weasel grin the Itachis were famous for, though Sakusa would never use it. His cousin grinned at him with absolute slyness. "Any D1 team that gets him will be fun."

It's as if he knew Miya would enter as the first string setter of MSBY Black Jackals 3 months after that. Or when the College League started, he'd be bombarded with piles of letters for a chance to continue pro, and the Black Jackals was what he aimed to be a part of. Damn cousin instincts. 

Life was pleasant. In his entire span of living, Sakusa regretted few and many things, but that's just how life is. You put effort into living and even if the results are rotten, you know you can't control life. It can spiral into a never-ending rabbit hole or a staircase stretching into the unseen sky. For Sakusa, life is getting bashed in the head and having to go through the days with three cuckoos ramming inside your head. 

The three cuckoos of Sakusa; Shouyou, Bokuto and Miya.

Motoya might have guessed it already, but he still looked at him like they were back in Motoya's cramped backyard with Sakusa lying deep in the mud and Motoya crying because they were blaming each other over Taro's death. Just this time, he was sitting on Sakusa's undone bed and Sakusa was piling his things into the boxes around the room.

Motoya fingered the loophole of his keychain, gaze discomposed. Out of them two, it's an assumed fact that Motoya's the better emotional supporter. He perfected his fake smiles and fooled everyone with his cheery personality, but he's always stable and didn't let his emotions run rampage. Sakusa could see why people who never built a permanent camp in Motoya's invincible barriers would doubt them as cousins.

He gave out evidence as his lips curled up in a smirk that was identical to Sakusa's. He repeated.

"Black Jackals?"

Sakusa answered.

"Black Jackals."

Motoya shifted back to his usual mask, his smirk turning into a grim smile.

"You do know they're chaotic, right?"

"They're the best after Adlers, that's what counts." He offered him a slab of dark chocolate bar.

Motoya shoved a cracked piece into his mouth, he muffled out though Sakusa knew he's judging him. "Cool! Just don't regret it, okay?"

("..."

"Spit it out, Atsumu."

"Ya two are totally related."

"Do you think one of us is adopted."

"Act'ally, I think it's Motoya-kun who's adopted, ya know. He looks too sunny for your whole stormy aura."

"I'm grateful that I changed your perspective of him then.")

Regret poured on him like a ruthless storm, igniting his switch of incredulity as Sakusa perched on top of a stool, eyes murdering the camera as the three cuckoos wrecked havoc inside the studio.

When MSBY Black Jackals was crowned as the most chaotic V-League team in the public's eyes, Sakusa thought it meant lawful chaotic. He had a taste of it when he met the captain, Meian before the try-outs and Miya seemed to lessen from his status as chaotic evil over the years of maturity. He regretted that he didn't think much of the consequences, because Miya was too good at lying and the MSBY BJ turned out to be chaotic evil instead.

The events of having to  [ dance to an 80s song ](https://twitter.com/shinsucke/status/1290631202244763649) in a dress he's convinced was what drag queens wore, of Bokuto receiving flood letters about taxes, of having to be in suspicious contact with the  [ Jackasuke mascot ](https://twitter.com/oknbird/status/1296032721735622656) and other scarring experiences telling him that MSBY Black Jackals was indeed,  [ chaotic evil. ](https://twitter.com/kingtobioh/status/1290634282096984064)

All of that pushing him to this event where he's trying hard not to make a beeline towards the glowing exit sign. Bokuto was howling with laughter while Shouyou was imitating Kageyama Tobio's infamous scowl; his eyebrows pinched together in a v and mouth pouted. He gruffly said, voice an octave very low. "I'm so dumb when it comes to love that I don't even take the first move."

Beside him, Miya had a good job on keeping up his composure until that sentence was said. He roared and clenched his stomach, Bokuto wiped fake tears from his eyes and Shouyou grinned cheekily as if he hadn't deadpan a "Tobio's going to kill me." after he read the slip of paper containing his boyfriend's name.

Akane politely laughed, she beamed. "That is a treat! Is that really Kageyama-san's most memorable feature?"

Shouyou looked up at the ceiling before dropping down, directing his gaze at her. "Well, Akane-chan. It's either that or his passive angry face!"

Miya unconsciously leaned towards him a bit, wheezing weakly. Sakusa tried to inch as far away as he could while sitting on the high stool, trying to keep his focus as Shouyou passed the high hat towards Bokuto, who took it happily. He made a drama by attentively picking each one and putting it back, singing, "Nope. Nope~". After an agonizing minute of him literally picking every slip of paper and throwing them back into the hat, plus Miya who had a distracting dopey grin on his face, Bokuto finally unveiled a paper.

"You'll like this, Tsum Tsum!"

Miya perked up, "Oh, why's that?"

Bokuto coughed into his fist, "Miya Osamu!"

Miya gawked, then he turned towards the camera, putting both his arms up in surrender. "'Kay, admit it! Which one of you guys suggested that jerk?!" He glared playfully at Shouyou and Bokuto, "It ain't ya two, right? Because if ya did, I'm gonna be seriously angry!"

Bokuto shouted, "No! I only put Keiji, Tsum Tsum! And Washio, because I love them both. Though I love Keiji more! No offense, Washio." Shouyou joined in, "No."

Then, Miya slowly turned his head to look at Sakusa, eyes critical and searching. Sakusa made a point by impossibly leaning further from him as soon as Miya opened his mouth, "It can't be ya, Omi-Omi?"

He made another point by giving him a challenging look full of respite, he tauntingly said. "I wish I did."

Both Bokuto and Shouyou burst out laughing while Miya scrunched his nose. "Yer impossible."

He gave him an unimpressed look, one that could be translated as _ you just banded me up in the same group as you.  _ Miya didn't notice it as he went back to Akane, who's explaining. "It must be a fan, the suggestion is open to the public after all!"

Miya said, tone exasperated. "Yeah. An Osamu fan."

"Hey, Tsum. What is your twin's famous expression?" Bokuto asked him.

Miya hummed, honey eyes glinting in a manner Sakusa knew only when he's planning a wicked setter tip or a prank. "Don't you remember that meme with Samu's beetroot face on?"

Bokuto awed, "Oh! That one when your boyfriend has a six pack abs thingy?!"

"He's damn whipped, he didn't even know I was taking a picture." Miya beckoned him, "Just do that face. But please imagine yer Akaashi instead of Sunarin being naked. I don't want my twin to get jealous, ya know?" He wiggled an eyebrow, Sakusa thought  _ wow, that's some bullshit only Miya could pull off on national television.  _

"Keiji doesn't have six-pack abs though," Said Bokuto. Sakusa also saw that meme in the obnoxious ‘Quadruplet BJs’ group chat, yes, he's the honored one to write the name after the traumatic ‘ _ we have big pps’ _ Miya put. It's not his intention to see a nearly naked Suna Rintarou, V-League players often trade nudes with each other for no damn reason, but he's pretty sure the ever-possessive Miya Osamu won't let Suna send even a shirtless picture to anyone. The thing was Miya Osamu might have a thing for men with lean and decently-packed bodies, because his face was identical to a volcano explosion in that meme .Sakusa didn't bother to think if that's the same case for Miya Atsumu.

Bokuto's face was wiped off blank for a long minute before he blushed. It's weird to see a shameless person like him blushing, but yeah, you didn't see an impassive onigiri shop owner suddenly have the face of a sizzling pan everyday. Could the Miya beside him have the same expression - no, don't cross that line. Ignore the reader's frustrated brain.

Miya laughed triumphantly and with tears in his eyes as he turned to face the camera directly, pointing a finger. "See that, Samu! That's how you look when you're with Sunarin except ten times better, you bitch!"

Shouyou and Bokuto joined him in humiliating his twin brother, Sakusa felt himself quirking up his lips a bit.

"Spicy!" Akane laughed, clapping her hands together. "Now, shall we see you imitating someone's infamous expression, Miya-san?"

Miya grinned charmingly, horribly, Sakusa corrected. "I'm taking up that challenge. Thanks, Bokkun." He took the hat from Bokuto and pulled out a slip with no hesitation.

He unfurled the piece of paper and his grin turned into a wicked one. The grin was directed to him as he said, "If it isn't the emotionless Sakusa Kiyoomi!"

"I'm not emotionless."

"Yeah, I can see ya pouting right now." Miya shifted. "I'll ask Akane-chan. You want his grumpy face or his charming face?" Sakusa prompted to ignore the second option.

Akane however, didn't let him rest as she mulled. "I'll say charming! I'm curious."

Miya composed his face into neutral territory, then he turned his head to look at him. Sakusa didn't stop breathing, he didn't, Miya's thick eyelashes were clouded down halfway, black curtains against warm gold irises. His lips looked somehow super soft under the dim studio lighting, plump and shiny because of the chapstick he always wears. Sakusa wasn't breathing, in order to take a breath and appear as if he wasn't thinking  _ had Miya always been this attractive? _ \- he blurted out.

"That's not my infamous expression."

Miya blinked and the spell broke. He rolled his eyes and flicked a finger at him through the air, "Ya need to stop looking at me like that then. I swear you only give me that cold intense look when yer planning my murder. I don't want to die young, Omi-kun!"

He snorted, "I was thinking how much it'll contribute to humanity if you shut your mouth." 

"Ya like this mouth, jerk!"

Miya wears citrus chapstick, he applies a layer on his lips every waking hour, he doesn't change his flavour preference and always sought out the orange-coloured tube in the nearest pharmacy. Sakusa likes plums and citrus, plums because it's sour and citrus because it's another meaning for his given name. Citrus has this sweet taste he's secretly fond of, plus he wishes to both taste and shut Miya's mouth at the same time.

So does he like Miya’s citrus-flavoured mouth? Tragically no.

He bit out another remark, which Miya was flabbergasted to hear and nearly fell from his seat if Sakusa didn’t slung a leg around him and pulled him back. Sakusa ignored his shocked gasp and proceeded to continue the game, feeling smug as he pulled a perfect carbon copy of Miya’s shitty eat grin. Miya really did fall onto his butt at this one, and Sakusa didn’t help him a second time.

_ From Komori Motoya: your cold intense look is your flirty look dear cousin _

_ Me: Motoya, I appreciate it if you don’t start a meta-analysis session on me at 3 am. _

When he was little, just a month after Taro’s death, he overheard his sister talking with her friend. 

“You know, short boys are cute.”

He didn’t know why he remembered that line for more than a decade, the brain just randomly stored anything. Eventually, he learned that episodic memories are categorised as memorable events, likely having some emotion or meaning behind them. Thinking back, maybe because he tried to compare Motoya with his sister’s description and came out with a conclusion that his cousin was not cute but a gremlin instead. Or that’s the starting line for his attraction towards boys.

Short boys were supposed to be cute, was that how girls see it? Motoya had his span of fangirls so maybe. Sakusa’s perspective for boys was generalised as attractive, Iizuna-senpai was wholly attractive, Wakatoshi-kun was diligently attractive, Motoya was attractive personality-wise.

That didn’t explain anything as Miya laughed underneath him, his voice sweet and his smile genuine. Sakusa had the word  _ cute  _ not leaving his brain as the sound vibrated into him, he kissed the jut of his hip bone and Miya snorted adorably. 

“Omi - Omi! Stop!” He giggled as Sakusa delivered another peck, directly on the infuriating mole. Miya tried to push him away, his attempts futile as he loosened and burst out butterfly laughs with every kiss, Sakusa kept his lips there, enjoying each of Miya’s snorts and whines.

“Omi, Kiyoomi! I can’t br - Bwa!” He kicked him weakly, voice breathless and hitching. Sakusa didn’t offer mercy as he tightened his hold around him, Miya squirmed and Sakusa bit the skin there gently.

“No bites! No bites, Kiyoomi! Mmpf!” Miya cried before laughing, his hands buried deep in Sakusa’s hair.

He parted his lips, Miya puffed a breath of relief and Sakusa looked down at him. His eyes were rimmed with tears, his mouth had stretched into a wobbly grin as his hands cupped the sides of Sakusa’s face. He was right, Miya can make the same flushed face as he kissed him and tasted the overwhelming citrus coating on his lips.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Omi-kun, we need to talk.”

Kiyoomi stopped scrolling down his phone, his hand dropped to his side as he looked at Atsumu, who’s going through the kitchen cupboard on tip-toes. He settled a pair of ceramic mugs on the counter and Kiyoomi watched his back, the rolls of his shoulders and bobs of his head as he prepped their tea.

Handing him a steamy mug, fingers brushing, Atsumu sat opposite him, their legs tangled together underneath the table. Kiyoomi sipped his tea, registering the vanilla rose flavour they bought together on their Shimoyama-san trip.

“I need to ask ya something, Omi.”

Kiyoomi looked at him, a sign of  _ go on _ .

“Are we dating?”

Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t choke, he burned his tongue because he sipped too much tea. He thought, _ are we even dating? _

“Are we supposed to be dating?” He monotone out.

“Nope.” Atsumu answered instantly, as if he already pondered over this. He had to, probably when he’s crushing Kiyoomi to death on their bed, or while staring at the skyscrapers from their balcony, in their shared condominium where their possessions mixed with each other.

“We don’t have to label whatever we are, I’m fine with this.” Kiyoomi rubbed his tongue on the roof of his mouth, trying to lessen the numb pain.

Atsumu hummed, though Kiyoomi knew he’s not satisfied with the answer and would wrangle out more as they drove to Hyogo at the crack of dawn. But at that moment, Kiyoomi would enjoy his leftover peace. A quiet Miya Atsumu is an attractive one, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Phew, what a ride. This is purely self-indulgent btw. I was stressing over my studies bwahaha, i wrote this instead of studying ... yeah, not proud of my latest exam results.
> 
> I'm one of those grandpas in downtown eateries, reading newspapers and drinking black coffee, and I'm not even that old.
> 
> That short guys are cute part I extracted from my convo with my senior. Yeah, we're in the middle of a taekwondo competition and she's gonna kick her opponent in the next few minutes, and yeah, we're talking about our junior's unfortunate brother who is fortunately cute. No explanation needed. Man, we're not horny, it's just girls talk in a sweaty gymnasium. Just like boys talk in a sweaty bar, idk. I won't blame you if you hate me for that though.
> 
> Rose vanilla tea is yummy but its smell can be dizzy sometimes.
> 
> During the Shinto Era, an emperor was worshiped as a god by the public. A god will forever be related with holiness, that's why Motoya labelled Sakusa as emperor. During WW II, an emperor was conflicted to be viewed as a god or a general public figure. You know which one the public settled on. [Kiyomi](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kiyomi) is citrus, read the first sentence of the article HAHAHA. My auto correct nearly put Kiyomi as wyoming, wtf.
> 
> I'm supposed to finish my other sakuatsu drafts. Welp, peace out. Thanks!


End file.
